


All Work

by enemyofperfect



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Community: Meme of Interest, F/M, I think this fic might fall in the dubcon genre, Pre-Series, see notes for more detailed warnings, which is different from saying that I have doubts about Reese's lack of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemyofperfect/pseuds/enemyofperfect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Kara says, "Would it kill you to relax for once in your life?"</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Work

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I was in the mood to write something really painful, and then I remembered [the perfect prompt](http://meme-of-interest.dreamwidth.org/1507.html?thread=346083#cmt346083): "John/Kara, dub-con: After eliminating a target in a mission, Kara urged John to have sex with her." As always, kink memes are love!
> 
> I have trouble making my brain understand how people draw the line between noncon and dubcon, so if you would like more information about that aspect of this fic, please do read the end notes by following the link just a couple of paragraphs down.
> 
> Many thanks to [emef](http://archiveofourown.org/users/emef) for encouragement, feedback, and all-around support.

"This has got to be the nicest place I've ever killed anyone," Kara muses, wandering past John towards the bed.

He sits back on his heels, looking down at the body he just searched. "The flash drive isn't on him."

"Well, shit." She doesn't sound very concerned. "You know, I think I could come just touching these sheets."

"You're sure it wasn't in the suitcase?" The bed's a high four-poster, with no shadows deep enough to hide what they're looking for, and there aren't a lot of other corners it could have rolled into. He stands up to check them anyway.

"It's not in the suitcase." She's kneeling on the bed now, inspecting the headboard. "God, somebody gouged the hell out of this thing."

That stops him. "Think there's a hidden compartment?"

The look she gives him is very amused. "More like our guy had hidden depths in bed." Something must show on his face, because she rolls her eyes. "Who set fire to your ass, anyway? We didn't even think he'd get home till tomorrow, we've got plenty of time. Would it kill you to relax for once in your life?"

He goes to double-check the suitcase.

Behind him, she sighs and slides off the bed. He stills when she touches his shoulder, but he doesn't tense.

"Such a good boy," she murmurs. "Aren't you?"

His hands hover over the dead man's things, then settle on the edges of the suitcase. "The job isn't over yet."

"Isn't it?" She tangles her fingers through his hair, tugs his head back a little. "Maybe you need a little break."

He breathes in, then can't think of anything to say on the exhale. He lets the air out past the catch in his throat.

He lets her draw him back to the bed.

"Take your shoes off," she says, so he does, and puts his socks in them. When he turns, she's lying back with her skirt hitched up and her eyebrows raised. He leans in closer, gets his head between her legs before she pushes him down herself. She never wears underwear with this dress.

He noses in carefully, not sure how fast she wants to take this, but she's already hot and flushed, lips parted a little with eagerness, slick. He laps at them, tasting sweat along the outer folds, something else within, but he doesn't linger there, just licks his way up to her clit and knows by her hand on the nape of his neck that he guessed right.

Kara's always quiet when he goes down on her, now that he's learned what she likes. She just shimmies and clutches his hair, tilts her hips to get him where she wants him, maybe swears in the last instants before she comes, out of breath and almost angry past the rush of blood in his ears. He'd bring her off more than once, now, but before he can more than nurse her through the aftershocks, she's pulling him up, pushing him back on the bed.

"Your turn," she says, and reaches for his fly.

"I'm fine," he tries to say, gasping a little when she presses in with the heel of her hand.

"Are you hard yet? Then no, you aren't fine." She sits back, frowning. "You know what, take all of this off, I don't want to mess with it later."

She hasn't taken her dress off, let alone her bra. He starts on his shirt buttons.

He isn't all the way hard, but he's getting there, or was before she manhandled him. Or still is: there isn't much point in pretending that pain doesn't turn him on when half the time it's what pushes him over the edge. It's just--

"Hey hotshot, I've got the condom. Why the hell are you still wearing pants?"

"I should move the body first," he says.

"What, in case it's watching us?" She stares at him in disbelief, then flicks the condom at his head to make him flinch. "Jesus, never in my life have I known a man who griped so much about getting laid."

She does take off the dress before she blows him. He fists his hands in the sheets and tries to map out where the flash drive could be. Kara wasn't wrong. They're nice sheets.

After she figures he's ready she has him unhook her bra. Her hair smells good, and he ducks his head to press a kiss against her shoulder, once. She twitches like a horse with a fly.

"Come on, come on," she says when he's trying to slide into her slowly. "Fuck, give me all of it, it's not like--there, finally." Then when he thinks he's set up a good rhythm she digs her nails into his ass and hisses with satisfaction when his hips jerk out of control.

It's too much, and then it isn't enough, and then he's just doing his best to hold on, sweating and panting above her with his eyes pressed shut, waiting for the moment when she shudders and tightens around him and he can let go.

Except he can't ever let go. He can come so hard he feels sick afterwards, and open his eyes seeing colors like after an explosion in the dark, but he has to hold himself up until he's steady enough to pull out, and he has to pull out before he gets too soft and slips out of the condom, and above all he has to make sure he has his face under control before he lifts his head from Kara's shoulder, because she gets a little lazy after she comes for the second time, but she never misses a thing.

He gets his face under control.

"We should divide the house into sections," he says later, when he's putting his shoes back on. "Do you want this floor, or--"

"What are you talking about?" Kara says, like she's actually kind of interested.

He turns. "The flash drive. You said--"

_It's not in the suitcase._

Kara's still lounging on those sheets, still naked, her hair a little dark with sweat. There's a gleam in her eyes he should have noticed before.

He says, "It's not in the suitcase anymore because you put it in your purse."

She smiles.

"See," she says, climbing down the bed, "this is what happens when you work too hard." He tries to twist in place to track her, but she leans against his back, tucks her head next to his and winds her arms around him. "You lose your edge," she says against his ear.

"But don't worry," she adds, releasing him abruptly. "I'll find ways to keep you sharp."

**Author's Note:**

> The content notes I gave when I first posted this on the meme are: _there is no physical struggle or overt threat, but it's fairly clear that Reese doesn't want to have sex, and acquiesces only because he doesn't see outright refusal as an option. Additionally, it's established relationship, so there's the implication that this is a pattern for them._ If you have any other questions, please feel free to contact me.


End file.
